loch of the Game and Fisheries Department
of the Uganda Government when, in Entebbe,
I had obtained official permission to stalk
gorillas in these wild volcanic mountains. "Do
be careful," he had said, adding with typical
British understatement, "They aren't zoo
gorillas, you know."
I devoutly wished they were during the
next long five seconds, as the great male
crouched like a padded football player, his
fearsome arms stiff from shoulders to the
ground, as if ready at any moment to swing
the whole awful machine back into action.
Low, ominous noises rolled from his throat as
his head jerked to one side or the other of the
curtaining bamboo stalks for a better look.
Had I not been thoroughly warned against
it, I surely would have bolted. Holding one's
Wild celery, a favorite gorilla food, thrives
in the African highlands. Great apes strip
away the tough outer stalks to get at the
tender heart. Reuben, the author's guide,
plucked these plants at the 11,000-foot level.
Safari invades the Belgian Congo's
ground, so the theory ran, can dissuade a
gorilla from following through on his charge.
That was what happened in this case.
Abruptly the 400-pound nightmare turned,
and I caught a glimpse of silvery back
pelage. Then he was gone.
It was as if his purpose had been to
freeze us in our tracks until other members
of the family could get away. Once they
were safe, he wished no further traffic
with us.
Nor did I, at that moment, with him.
Gorilla Lore Mixes Fact and Fiction
Before setting up camp here on the high
saddle between the Muhavura and Mga
hinga peaks, I had discussed my plans
with Mr. Walter Baumgartel, innkeeper of
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